It Couldn't Kill You
by Mi Amortentia
Summary: It couldn't kill you to be nice, Malfoy' 'Well it couldn't kill you, Granger, to be a little more badass.' If it doesn't kill you, will it really make you stronger? Hermione and Draco are about to find out.
1. When Potions goes BAD

**A/N: This is what I originally meant to do with "School Spirit" but I somehow managed going in a different direction with it. Actually, I know how I screwed it up. One, I will forever constantly change my mind about stuff, and two, I didn't set the story up correctly. This one, however, I did. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the storyline.

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It Couldn't Kill You...

**Chapter One: When Potions go B-A-D.**

"No, we don't put the dragon scales in the yet, _Malfoy_!" Hermione Granger snapped as her Potions partner, none other than Draco Malfoy, made to dump the glass jar containing said ingredient into the cauldron set between the two. Draco shot her a nasty death glare, which she ignored as she further contradicted him. "You put those in after the potion turns light blue. Does that look like a light blue to you?"

A few eavesdroppers, mainly Gryffindors, sniggered as Draco looked into the cauldron. Inside was purple bubbling goop. No, it didn't look like any kind of blue. But, it didn't look like any kind of potion either. It just looked like purple mud. Snape had to be completely out of his tree to make anyone drink this, Sleeping Drought or not. Well, an _advanced _Sleeping Drought. Realizing he had been quiet way to long, and now looked dense, he withdrew his hand from the cauldron and shot Hermione another death glare as she smirked back at him.

Across the room, Snape took a seat at his desk and started massaging his temples as he closed his eyes. He was now seriously beginning to regret ever pairing the Slytherins with the Gryffindors just for his own amusement of watching them suffer. Because not only were the students suffering, but also now he was suffering with a headache caused by Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger's rather loud discussions on potions. He was also beginning to regret assigning them the advanced Sleeping Drought, because if it was made incorrectly, well it wouldn't put the drinker into a coma, but it _did_ have some very unusual side affects. None of which he knew, because it was a simple enough potion and no one ever made it wrong, but with all the distraction... it would be a very interesting day. One Madame Pomfrey might be very busy with.

Snape winced as something exploded nearby. He didn't have to open his eyes to know it had something to do with Neville Longbottom.

_And so it begins...' _Snape thought miserably.

But Neville's was only the first. Soon afterwards, Seamus screwed up, followed by Ron and then, not surprisingly, Harry did too.

"Well I see those remedial potion classes didn't help you, Potter," Draco taunted. From her seat, Hemione rolled her eyes. Her honey brown eyes darted back and forth between her potions book, _Potions through the Ages, Grade Seven, _and the cauldron, which was now brewing a dark blue liquid. She heard Harry give a sarcastic retort, but she was too wrapped up in getting her potion to be perfect to take any notice. She didn't even notice when Draco got up from his seat.

"HARRY- BE CARE- _MALFOY, NO!" _

Professor Snape opened his eyes just in time to see the catastrophe unravel before him. Draco and Harry were duking it out with hand-to-hand combat, wands abandoned on the floor. Hermione had jumped out of her seat causing it to tip over, but she didn't care, because at that moment Draco slammed Harry into the side of the desk and their cauldron was now wobbling dangerously. Hermione almost had it settled when suddenly Draco fell into his empty seat, bumping the edge of the table with just enough force that it knocked the cauldron over, and it's dark blue contents spilled on both Hermione and Draco.

The last thing that either of them remembered was Professor Snape shouting something, but neither could understand him, and then it all went black.

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"She's gonna be okay, right?"

"I don't know, Ron. You heard Snape, if it wasn't made correctly..."

"Oh for Heaven's sake, Harry, she isn't dead _or_ dying!"

"Ooh, I'm gonna _kill _Malfoy!"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and attempted to sit up. Bad idea. Her head felt like it had been run over with an eighteen-wheeler; actually, her entire body ached. But that didn't make sense, seeing as she hadn't done anything but attend classes all day. Groaning, Hermione forced herself to sit up; she had some questions to ask her friends. She had barely opened her mouth before her three best friends noticed that she had woken and all jumped to hug her.

"Oh, oh, don't touch, don't touch." Hermione said weakly. The three apologized and returned to their seats around her bed. Hermione squinted and raised her hand to keep the light out of her eyes. The afternoon sun was reflecting off of the white, white walls of the hospital wings and it was positively blinding her.

There was a moment's silence and then there was a sudden outburst.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Are you okay?"

"Want me to kill Malfoy?"

Hermione groaned and rubbed her forehead. It was taking forever for her brain to register the questions, but once she did she thought about them. _Did _she remember anything? Uh... well... she could answer the second one.

"I'm sore all over," Hermione said, turning her attention briefly to Ron. His grim look deepened, and Hermione regretted saying anything at all. She looked at Ginny. "I don't think killing ferret boy would help anything." Ginny sighed. Last but not least, Harry's question. Exactly what did she remember? Well, arguing with Malfoy, then Harry and Malfoy fighting and then... nothing. She told them as much. They all exchanged looks with each other, hoping that the other had an answer. Unfortunately, none did. But they were saved from having to say anything at all when Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office.

"Oh, Miss Granger, you awake!" She exclaimed and hustled over to her. "We thought you'd be out until dark- oh, I see Mr. is still lying about."

At this comment, Hermione looked around the Hospital Wing, and sure enough, Malfoy was conked out on the bed next to her with one arm draped over his eyes and the other on his stomach. Hermione wasn't surprised in the least when she thought about it. Whatever spilled on her, went on him too, so it was only to be assumed that they both be knocked out. But she had this feeling that he wasn't asleep, unconscious, or whatever you wanted to call it. She also had a weird feeling of security, as if nothing bad could ever happen to her. She groaned and rubbed her forehead.

"Drink this, deary," Madame Pomfrey said, holding out a glass filled nearly to the brim with a clear liquid. Hermione took the glass from her, being careful not to spill and gulped it down without a question. If Madame Pomfrey supplied it, it was good for her health. Plus, she didn't want to know exactly what it was because it was possibly the most vile thing she had ever tasted- and that included the Poly Juice Potion.

Draco smirked, although no one could see because the sleeve of his robes, as he heard Granger gulp down the potion with a barely audible "yuck". Having taken the same potion half an hour ago, he could sympathize with her. It truly was some nasty stuff, though his reaction wasn't quite the same. His reaction was a few choice words to Madame Pomfrey, which she chose to ignore. Fair enough. She probably went through that sort of thing a hundred times over each week if not day.

"Feeling better?" He heard Boy-Weasel ask Hermione as Madame Pomfrey went back into her office.

"Much." she replied, and Draco heard the office door open again.

"Well, I suppose if you're feeling better you may leave," Pomfrey said, and a second later Draco heard the bed and chairs shift. Taking this as his queue, he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and followed the troublesome foursome out of the hospital wing, not bothering to see if Madame Promfrey objected. Not that he'd care if she did. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoy's _always_ did as they pleased. No matter _what_.

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**A/N: Review and thou shall be rewarded.** **With, like, cookies or maybe another chapter? I dunno. You decide.**


	2. The Aftermath of Potions

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews guys. Because you wer so nice you'll get both cookies and a new chapter. Well, actually, if I sent the cookies to you all in the mail they'd be crumbs, so you'll have to settle with just a chapter.

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**It Couldn't Kill You... **

**Chapter Two: The Aftermath of Potions **

"Good going, Granger," Malfoy said, as the group of teens walked down the corridor in the direction of the main staircase. Hermione stopped walking and turned to look at him. The look wasn't exactly friendly. In fact, had he been anyone else, he might've considered turning around and getting the hell out of the area. But, he was a Slytherin and Slytherins were in no way, shape, or form, afraid of measly Gryffindors, other wise known as the ass-kissers of Hogwarts. In his opinion, Slytherins was the best house to get into because you could do badly at your own leisure. Whereas in Gryffindor, you _had _to behave. It was expected of you. Not surprised considering, their Head of House was McGonagall, who walked around as if she had a stick shoved up her ass. Snape was more laid back. Okay, he favored his of house. It's not like it's a secret, or anything. But, Dumbledore has his favorites too, and they were walking in front of him. The Perfect Little Know-It-All, The-Boy-Who-Wont-Die, and the Weasel and Weaselette.

"Oh, I _know_ you are not about to blame _me_ for this whole mess," Hermione shot back, tossing a curious look at her friends who kept on walking as if nothing was happening. Draco graced her with his trademark smirk.

"I casted a little spell. I believe you know it as 'Muffilatio', and yes, I _am_ blaming you," Draco replied. Hermione had stopped walking and gaped at him as he passed. He made a show of rolling his cold gray eyes, even tossing in a sigh for good measure. "Close you're mouth, Granger. You look like a frog otherwise." He was rewarded with a frustrated grunt and soon Hermione was walking beside him clearly annoyed. This was one of the reasons why he enjoyed school.

For a brief moment, neither said anything. Not that the silence lasted long.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Why, _what_?" Draco asked, exasperated.

"_Why _are you blaming _me_ when _you _were the reason the potion tipped over?" Hermione replied. Draco rolled his eyes again; this time was less dramatic though.

"Because," Draco began, as the group walked through the door that led to the main staircase and started climbing the stairs to get to the seventh floor. The Hospital wing was on the fourth floor, located in the corridor across from the one that led to Binns' classroom, so it was quite a climb. Especially if the stairs decided to change before he and Hermione got to the staircase they needed to be on when it happened. "If _you_ hadn't decided to contradict me a hundred times I wouldn't have been in a foul mood and thus, would have never started that fight with Potter."

"You're so full of it," Hermione retorted, giving him a glare. "You would've started a fight with Harry anyway and you _know_ it."

"Actually, I probably would've waited until the weekend when no teachers were around," Draco said, calmly, while he falsely checked his fingernails. He looked up at her and shrugged. "So, yeah, I guess I would've."

"See you later, Hermione?"

Hermione jumped at the sound of Ron's voice, and Draco laughed at her. Typical.

"Uh, sure," Hermione replied, looking around. They had reached the seventh floor already and her friends were getting ready to go into the Gryffindor House. Hermione bid her good-byes to them and waiting on the stairs with Malfoy until the stairs moved over to their own House, the Head Boy and Girl's House, that was located on the adjacent wall from the Gryffindor House. While they were waiting, Hermione picked up her argument/discussion with Malfoy.

"Of course, you probably could've fought Harry right in front of Snape. I bet he'd even encourage him," Hermione said, bitterly. To her slight surprise, Malfoy didn't agree with her.

"Actually, what I heard from those friends of yours was that Snape was so furious about the whole thing that he deducted points from both houses. A hundred points from my house, and fifty, I think it was, from your house," Draco replied, sounded equally, if not more, bitter than her. He gave her an accusatory look.

"It's not- _whoa_-" Hermione grabbed the banister as the stairs lurched suddenly and moved over to their own house. The pair got off the stairs and stood in front of the portrait that guarded the Heads House. It was of a knight that went by the name of Sir Rodney, who was drinking out of a gold goblet.

"Password?" He asked, putting down his goblet and looking down at the two.

"Anyway," Hermione said, ignoring the Knight, and redirecting her attention to the blond bad boy of Slytherin, "As I was about to say, it's not _my _fault that _you _can't control your damn temper. Especially when it comes to my friends and I, actually, make that _any _Gryffindor that looks at you funny."

"Password?"

"Not true," Draco retorted, hotly. "Just this morning I had nasty arguments with Pansy and Blaise. In the fight with Blaise I ended up punching him in the face because I didn't have my wand on me."

"_Password?" _

"So you walked into Potions with a bad mood- that's not my fault. None of this is and you just proved why."

Draco gaped at her, realizing she was right. He quickly recovered and gave her a nasty look. But it was too late. The damage was done. Hermione was smirking at him, obviously pleased with her small victory. Draco was not amused, but he was at loss for words. Anything he said would just further prove it. So he remained quiet and they just stood there staring at each other.

_"PASSWORD?" _

"Dragon's Blood," The two said, simultaneously, and Sir Rodney swung open and allowed the two to enter.

The Heads Common Room was truly something to look at. The main theme was crimson red and black, with touches of silver heard and there. The walls were painted a beautiful crimson, four tapestries, each bearing the colors and animal of the houses, hung on the walls between large windows that had black satin curtains hanging in front. The carpet was black, as well as the two leather couches and marble fireplace. The couched each had a pair of red and gold pillows and silver and green pillows. There was one of each color on each couch. The fireplace was just that. A fireplace. There was really nothing special about it except that it just look fancy and elegant. Perched on the wall next to it, was a miniature version of the hourglasses that kept track of the house points. Currently, Gryffindor was in the lead, with a hundred and forty points. In the space between the fireplace and couches sat an oval mahogany coffee table. A similar looking table sat in one of the corners, with light red armchairs sitting around it. Then there was the silvery gray marble staircase that led to Hermione and Draco's rooms. Each room was done in their house colors and had a large four-poster canopy bed, a large dresser, a nicely sized desk, and a six-foot bookcase for all their books. And they each had their own bathroom equipped with the usual, including both a shower and bath that were separate from each other.

Draco plopped down on one of the couched while Hermione continued up to her bedroom. It was a rarity that both teens would be in the common room at the same time. One would either leave or go to their room. Same old. Content with her small victory upon getting Malfoy to admit _he _had done something both wrong and stupid, Hermione was about to settle down on her bed and read a book when she remembered something positively dreadful. Her alone time with Malfoy was far from over; they had to patrol the corridors together that night. Damn it.

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**A/N: Don't forget to review on the way out!**


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